𝗶𝗻 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗱𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗺𝘀 | 𝗴. 𝗯𝗹𝘆𝘁𝗵𝗲

.truth

" - and then I told him to fuck off. And then I got expelled. Again." George rambled on and on about his adventures in Vermont. Todd smiled at his friend as they both walked down the long halls of the building. "Then, I moved to Britain." the enthusiastic boy explained as they walked as quiet as they could, careful to avoid a certain somebody under the name of Josie. "There I met Oliver. At the Charterhouse academy. Or Hellhouse, as everyone who actually attended it would say," the teen said, causing Todd to let out a laugh.

"That bad, huh?" he asked, as George dramatically sighed, "Don't ask. Worst six years of my life. Though, with Oliver it was easy. He was always the chill, friendly type of a person. Someone you won't get bored with. Though he does seem a bit cold and unapproachable sometimes. Well, most of the time." George smiled widely as Todd gave him a side glance before his eyes landed on a portrait in the middle of the hall. It stood out, different from the others. It was larger, that may be one of the reasons, but not in Todd's case. He stopped in his tracks as George continued walking, oblivious to Todd's actions as he carried on with his talk. The blue eyes of Todd Perry raked over the portrait, noticing the delicate brush strokes that made out a face of a woman. A very beautiful woman, at that. The dark haired boy squinted through his glasses, desperate for a better look at the carefully, precisely painted lines, features that almost made the woman seem calm. Yes, that was it. She looked calm. Collected. She looked motherly. That's when Todd's eyes landed on the child in the painting, his face similar to the woman's as well as their hair. The boy's hair was blonde, just like the woman's. She looked down at the child in the picture lovingly. The boy reminded Todd of someone. Someone he knew.

"Ah, I see you've met Mrs Williams and lil' Ollie, here." George joked, suddenly appearing behind Todd as the latter backed away in surprise. "Oh - I was just looking." Todd managed to say, as George nodded slowly, his eyes glued to the painting on the wall. "She died very young, you know." he started, as Todd returned his attention to the painting. With a sigh, George continued, "Eleanor Williams was like a mother to me. She took me in when I had nowhere to go. Didn't differ me from Oliver. Not once. She was such a caring person, a lovely mother, really. She didn't deserve to have such a tragic ending." George spoke with a smile on his face, but a nostalgic wave of sadness laced through his voice. As if a sudden slap of realization stung his cheek, George straightened his posture, clearing his throat as he patted Todd on the back, "Well shit, I almost got all sappy." he laughed, throwing an arm around Todd's shoulder as the latter diverted his eyes from the painting. There was something hiding behind George's words and his stone face, Todd knew that. He saw how George's eyes beamed as he talked about the Williams family - well, the mother and the son. He was determined to find out what. Todd Perry was determined to find out more about George. About the Williams' family.